


Loving Strangers

by maraudersaffair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Emotional Sex, Grimmauld Place, M/M, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:10:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/pseuds/maraudersaffair
Summary: After twelve years apart, Remus and Sirius realize they don't know each other anymore.





	Loving Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for BastardSirius. A big thanks to my beta!

Christmas at Grimmauld Place had been surprisingly cheerful. Molly had supplied the kids with gifts and treats, and Arthur had supplied the adults with booze.

Now, with Harry and Ron asleep in front of the fire, Molly dozing in a rocking chair in the corner, Remus lounged on a small sofa, sipping from his whiskey and trying to not look at Sirius too much.

Sirius was on the floor, cleaning up the game of chess that he’d played with Harry and Ron, but his shoulders were tense, like he felt Remus’ eyes and thought Remus was angry with him.

Remus wasn’t angry. He was confused, hesitant, enchanted. He only thought of Sirius.

Sirius spelled the chessboard back to the cupboard and motioned to the seat next to Remus. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” Remus inhaled quietly. Sirius sat down at the end of the sofa, making sure their legs didn’t touch. He stared down at his hands.

Things had been awkward between them since Sirius’ return. They were close and depended on each other emotionally, but they were also cautious, a little shy, when it came to anything close to romantic feelings and physical intimacy.

Before James and Lily’s deaths, before Sirius’d been sent off to Azkaban, it’d been different, so incredibly different. Remus’d been obsessed with Sirius. He’d worshipped him. Sirius had been his first, and he’d been determined that they’d stay together for the rest of their lives.

But things never turned out the way he planned. He thought he would never see Sirius again, and this had made him reckless with his body. He was older now, greyer, with ropes of ugly scars covering nearly every inch of him. Sirius remembered his body as young and pure, ready to be molded, desperate for Sirius and only Sirius. 

Remus had grown up. He’d changed. He knew what he wanted sexually and he didn’t know if Sirius wanted the same thing. He also wasn’t sure if Sirius had changed. There were so many clues that Sirius was stuck in the past, that he wanted to _return_ to the past, and Remus knew nothing would work if Sirius refused to accept that they were both different people now.

“Happy Christmas,” Sirius whispered, and handed him a small box.

Remus flushed. “I didn’t get you anything! I thought we’d agreed—”

“It’s nothing big. I didn’t spend any money on it.” Sirius smiled.

“Oh.” He carefully put down his whiskey. He stared at the box. His throat tightened. He didn’t want to open it in front of Sirius. He wanted to do it in private so there’d be no shame if he teared up.

“Please,” Sirius said roughly. 

Remus’ fingers trembled as he untied the bow on the box and lifted up the lid. Inside, cradled in some red tissue paper, was a photograph of them. They were teenagers. Sirius had his arm draped over Remus, pulling him closer, laughing into his hair. Remus laughed too, but his eyes were reserved. He seemed almost embarrassed.

“Do you remember when that was taken?”

Frowning, he said, “Not really.” He racked his brain, trying to call up a memory. Sometimes it felt like he gazed at another person when confronted with old photographs of himself.

Sirius clasped his hands in his lap. It was a strange gesture, one that Remus didn’t remember from their schooldays. “It was taken the day after we started . . . dating.”

“Shagging, you mean?” Remus smiled a little. “If I remember correctly, it was a long time before we made our relationship public.”

“Yes.” Sirius’ voice caught. “I found it when I was cleaning out some old boxes. It made me remember things . . . remember how good it’d been between us.” He bit his lip and looked away.

Remus stared some more at the photograph. His breath came quickly, but he didn’t really know why. Then after a minute or so, he remembered. “This was taken in the common room. James called us love birds or something. I was terrified that he knew.”

“Of course he knew. He was our best friend.”

“Was he?” Remus frowned again. “I’m not sure if I had a best friend. I was close with you lot, but I also knew that my . . . condition separated us.”

Sirius scrubbed at his face. “It’s hard for me to see what was bad before. I clung to our school years when I was in Azkaban. I admit that it distorted some of the memories for me.”

“But you were always like that. You never dwelled on the negative when it came to your friends. You always thought everything was perfect.”

Now it was Sirius’ turn to frown. “I’m sorry if I . . . hurt you. I’m sorry if I wasn’t enough.”

Remus laughed. “Oh, you were enough. More than enough.” Their eyes met and he felt their mutual attraction like a magnet, like something inevitable. It’d always felt like this, and it terrified him. It made him feel out of control. It made him feel inadequate. Sirius was physical and ancestral perfection, and Remus was a deeply scarred man, a half-blood, a monster.

“Moony,” Sirius whispered, and reached for him, brushing his fingertips against his thigh. “I know things have been difficult. I know you never expected me to escape Azkaban. I just need to know if you still . . . feel the same way.”

This was the moment. This was when Remus sighed happily and pulled Sirius into a kiss. Instead he gripped the photograph tighter and said, “I felt so disgusting when this photograph was taken.”

“What?” Sirius’ face was blank.

Remus gulped and tried to find the right words. “I liked you from the moment I saw you. I spent the first four years of Hogwarts worshipping you. Then in fifth year it all changed. Not the worshipping part, but the part where I thought I could never have you.” He glanced at Sirius and he still couldn’t read his expression. “We were so young. Even after Hogwarts, I thought everything you did was perfect. It took you doing something utterly mad to make me realize that you had flaws.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispered.

He shook his head. “No, you don’t have to apologize. I was naïve. I didn’t value myself. I really only bring this up because . . . well . . . I want you to understand that I’ve changed.”

“I’ve changed, too.” Sirius put his hand on Remus’ knee. Remus stared at it, wanting so badly to bring it to his lips to kiss each knuckle. “Is this all right?”

“Yes.” Remus breathed deeply.

“But why did you feel disgusting?”

Remus smiled. He didn’t mean to, but it was what he did when he was uncomfortable. “Because I felt like I’d made a terrible mistake. There were times when your beauty made me feel like I was the ugliest person alive . . . and it was only a matter of time before you realized what a dullard I was.”

“Oh, Moony.” There was intense emotion in Sirius’ face. He looked like he might cry or yell.

“I don’t mean to upset you.”

Sirius leaned closer. “Please . . . let me kiss you.”

Shivering, he said, “No. Not here.”

Sirius took his hand. “Come to bed with me.”

“All right.” He let Sirius draw him upstairs. He shivered again when they passed by the guest room he was staying in and stopped in front of Sirius’ own door. Ever since coming back to the Black House, he’d avoided going inside Sirius’ room.

“Moony,” Sirius said, and brushed his lips against Remus’ temple. He seemed to sense Remus’ hesitation. He whispered: “You still want to do it?”

“Yes.” Remus went into the room and swished on the candles. He blinked in the warm gloom, his nose itching at the dust.

“I haven’t gotten around to cleaning . . .”

Remus didn’t know how he slept in here. The dusty air reminded him of a tome or an antique shop. He moved about the room, his hands clasped behind his back. His heart was racing. 

“I remember the few times your mum let me come over.” Remus stared at the yellowing pictures of bikini-clad women. “These especially annoyed me.”

Sirius perched on the end of his bed. “I tried so many times to shag you on this bed. Remember? At night? We’d be shoulder to shoulder, stiff as statues, and I’d press as closely as possible, hoping that you got the idea.”

“I didn’t have a clue. I thought you were just cold.” Remus laughed. “You gave me such a stiffy and I was terrified that you’d notice.”

“I did notice.” Sirius looked up at him through his fringe, his mouth curling at one end. “Please come over here.”

Remus sat down and turned to Sirius. Candlelight licked at his face. He was still beautiful, but the gloom drew out the lines on his forehead, around his mouth. Remus touched his cheek gently, unable to believe that the cheek survived Azkaban. Sirius turned his head to kiss and nuzzle his palm.

“ _Please_ ,” Sirius said, leaning closer.

Remus kissed him, and their mouths were incredibly shy. Remus angled his head, hoping that Sirius would open up. Sirius moaned and parted his lips, and his tongue was warm, gentle, nothing like Remus remembered.

“Sirius,” he said, and kissed him deeper. Sirius clutched at his shoulders, almost as if to anchor himself. They were both trembling.

He pushed Sirius on his back, his hands roaming over Sirius’ sides. He wasn’t a skinny young man anymore. He’d filled out, settled. Remus felt the strength and heat of him. He kissed over Sirius’ chin, down his neck, loving the grit of his skin.

Sirius gasped and arched up. His erection brushed against Remus’ hip. Remus moved so he could feel more of Sirius’ prick, his mouth sucking harder on Sirius’ neck. He wanted to pin his wrists to the bed and show Sirius that he wasn’t an inexperienced boy anymore. He knew how to make men melt, how to get them to whimper and plead and cry out. He knew how to ask for what he wanted, how to look a man in the eye and say, “I want to fuck you.”

Sirius didn’t know this. He didn’t know Remus. He only knew the past. He only knew a Remus who didn’t exist anymore.

Remus pulled at Sirius’ jumper, his hands frantic. Sirius helped get the jumper off, his breathing heavy. Remus didn’t take the time to examine his tattoos or scars. He slid down his body and yanked down his trousers and pants. Then his mouth was on Sirius, sucking, tonguing. Sirius shouted and threw his head back. He was unable to stop talking.

“Moony, _God_. Fuck. Yeah, suck it. Take me all the way down. God, I wanted this. I missed you. _I missed you._ ”

Remus bobbed his head quickly. He massaged Sirius’ bollocks, feeling their tension and heat. Precome flooded his mouth, and he sucked it all down, loving that he was tasting something so intimate. The taste was ghastly, but it just made everything that much better. Sirius wasn’t perfect. He was a human with flaws. He was a broken man who’d somehow survived Azkaban.

“Fuck—I’m not going to last—”

Remus came back up. He kissed Sirius on the cheek and said roughly, “What do you want?” 

“I want you inside me,” Sirius said.

“Are you sure?” Remus was trembling. He’d never been inside Sirius. They’d always done it the other way around.

“Yes.” Sirius blushed, and the pink looked incredibly attractive on his high cheekbones.

Remus looked into his beautiful eyes. Sirius had the longest eyelashes he’d ever seen on a bloke. He kissed Sirius deeply, wanting him to taste himself. Their tongues brushed and Sirius moaned.

“Turn over for me,” Remus said. When Sirius had done so, he kissed down Sirius’ back and helped him remove the rest of his clothing. He sat back on his heels to look at Sirius’ bare arse, his thin legs. With his back to Remus, Sirius could’ve been anyone. Remus didn’t recognize this body.

He wanted to smack Sirius’ cheeks. He wanted to spread him wide and whisper, “ _I own you._ ” But he didn’t know if Sirius would like that. He didn’t know if Sirius would even understand why he’d want to do it. 

Taking up his wand, Remus cast the necessary prep and protection spells. Then he Conjured up some lube in his palm. He parted Sirius gently and let some of the lube drip between his cheeks. 

Sirius shivered. “Please, Moony.”

Remus penetrated him with a finger. His mind spun. The moment felt unreal. For years he’d thought of Sirius as dead and now his finger was inside him. Sirius wasn’t dead. He was warm and trembling, desperate for Remus to fill him up. 

His finger moved slowly. Sirius moaned and rocked back on his hand, obviously wanting more.

“I’m not a bloody virgin. You don’t have to be so gentle with me,” Sirius said over his shoulder.

Remus smiled briefly. He couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t going slowly for Sirius. Not really. Somewhere in his mind he knew he was scared, but he was too focused to pay any attention to his own emotions. 

He added another finger and quickened his thrusting. He couldn’t look away. Then he added a third, his fingers curling, seeking. Sirius shuddered and moaned, his hips moving with Remus’ thrusting. He was desperate to be fucked. Remus couldn’t help thinking: _Where did he learn this?_ Who had fucked him when he was in Azkaban? 

“Now, please, now,” Sirius said.

“Padfoot,” Remus said, and his voice sounded choked. He pulled out his fingers and crouched into position. Then he was sliding into Sirius, into his incredible tight heat, and Remus couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe.

“Merlin.” Sirius arched up.

“Don’t talk.” Remus was blabbering. He didn’t know why he said that. He was trying to focus but he couldn’t. He pulled out slowly, then thrust back in. Christ. It was too good.

Sirius clawed at his pillows. “ _Fuck me_.”

_All right_ , Remus thought. He withdrew again, to the point of almost being out, then thrust as hard as he could, his knees slipping against the sheets. Sirius yelped and jerked forward. Remus wanted to apologize, but he didn’t. He couldn’t speak. He was burning up.

He clutched Sirius’ hips and pounded into him. He took what he wanted. Sirius panted but didn’t moan. He was quite still. Remus knew he should slow down, but his bollocks were growing tight, the suction of Sirius’ arse all-consuming. If they’d done this when they were younger, Remus would’ve gone slowly, hesitantly, watching Sirius’ face for any displeasure. Pleasing Sirius had been the most important thing. 

_But not anymore_. Remus felt savage. He didn’t understand his sudden anger. He spread Sirius’ arse to watch himself thrust, and he was glad that Sirius’ hole looked raw. Sirius had _hurt him_. He’d been selfish and ridiculous, and he’d _abandoned_ Remus.

“Moony,” Sirius whispered.

Remus wanted to roll his eyes. He wasn’t a child anymore. Why were they calling each other childish nicknames?

“Remus,” Sirius whispered, as if he could read his thoughts. Remus reached around and found that his cock had gone soft. He spit into his hand and stroked him quickly, his thumb swiping over the head. Sirius whimpered. 

“I want you to come for me.” Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him up, pinning Sirius against his chest. Remus bit and sucked his neck, his hand flying over his cock. All of it took coordination he didn’t have. His thrusting slowed.

“You’re so fucking deep,” Sirius said.

“I want to be deeper.” His voice was rough. He sounded angry.

“I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

_What?_

“You didn’t—”

“I did, I did.” Sirius pushed back on Remus’ cock, gasping. “I’m sorry I’m not enough.”

“Sirius,” Remus said, and he didn’t know if it was a warning or a plea. He was too close to coming to hear this. His hips moved with their own need, his hand slowing its strokes.

Sirius dropped down to his hands and knees again. He braced himself. “Fuck me. Use me. Come inside me.”

He tried to get Sirius off with him.

“ _No._ ” Sirius clenched around him. “Only you.”

Remus moaned. “I’m sorry—I need to—I’m going to—”

“Fucking do it. I want you to.”

Remus clawed at Sirius’ hips, immobilizing him, as he took his pleasure. He thrust hard, their flesh slapping together. He threw his head back, crying out, as he came. He was seventeen again and he was coming inside the most attractive boy at school; he was filling Sirius Black, heir to the one of the most powerful wizarding families in Britain, with his hot, hot come, and Sirius was taking it because he knew that was what Remus wanted and deserved.

Remus was exhausted. He pulled out and eased Sirius on his back. Sirius was crying. Remus kissed his face, licking away his tears. Somewhere in his mind Remus knew that this was bad. Maybe he’d been too rough. Maybe Sirius was triggered in some way.

“Padfoot.” He kissed down Sirius’ neck, then back up to his wet mouth. He stroked Sirius’ cock gently, lovingly, tugging and tugging until Sirius arched and whine.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

“You don’t have to be,” Remus said quietly.

Sirius turned his face away. “You don’t love me anymore.”

“I don’t know you anymore.” Remus mouthed down his stomach, along his thighs. “But I want to get to know you.” He took Sirius into his mouth, sucking, bobbing his head.

“I love you, I love you,” Sirius said, moaning. He flooded Remus’ mouth with come, and Remus swallowed it all down, letting the salt linger on his tongue.

He kissed back up Sirius’ body and held him tightly. Sirius pressed his face to his chest. “Please . . . give me another chance.”

“Of course,” Remus said, and he meant it. He pulled Sirius closer and kissed his forehead. It would take years to fill in the gaps, to address their pain, and he knew they could only do it slowly, one moment at a time. He found his wand and cleaned Sirius up. Then he gently helped Sirius put his clothes back on.

Sirius clutched at him. “Stay with me. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I will,” Remus said.


End file.
